I Don't Need To Remember You (To Love You)
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: An accident leaves Piers with no memory of his boyfriend. Dean is terrified that he'd about to lose the man he loves.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for Quidditch League, Round 10.**

 _Holyhead Harpies, Beater 2._

 **Main Prompt** \- Write about a character suffering from Amnesia (or relevent memory impairment)

 **Optional Prompts** \- Television / Poisonous / Objection

 **Word Count** \- 2415

 _Beta'd by Amber, Lo and Sam_

* * *

 **I Don't Need To Remember You (To Love You)**

* * *

His eyes were on the television, though he wasn't actually watching it. He was exhausted, and yet sleep was out of his reach. He glanced at the clock, sighing when he saw that only four minutes had passed since the last time he looked.

Time was dragging.

He hated fighting with Piers. They spat words at one another so poisonous, so cruel, that Dean was always a little amazed that they'd lasted as long as they had.

Tapping his fingers against his leg, Dean let his head fall back against the chair. Piers was out driving, as he always did when they fought, but Dean just wanted him here. He wanted to skip the hours of worry, straight to the apologies, and the cuddles and the warm body to lie against.

He checked the clock again. Only three minutes had passed this time.

A knock sounded at the door, and Dean forced himself to his feet, frowning. It was late, too late for the knock to be any of their friends.

When Dean opened the front door to see two men stood in Muggle police uniforms, his stomach dropped to his feet, and his hand shook against the door.

"Piers?" he asked, fearing the worst. The grave expressions on the police's faces didn't help the feeling that Dean's world was about to be turned on its head.

…

He didn't remember the ride to the hospital. Looking back later, all Dean would be able to recall would be the expressions on the police's faces, and the words, "There's been an accident."

…

His eyes were on the television, though he wasn't actually watching it. He was exhausted, and yet sleep was out of his reach. He shifted in the uncomfortable visitors chair, glancing at Piers' sleeping face.

He was bashed up, bruises and cuts scattered across his face and arms, the only parts of him that weren't covered by the thin, white, hospital issue blankets. Piers looked so small in the bed. Dean hated seeing him like that.

A nurse bustled in with a trolley filled with medical equipment and offered Dean a small smile. She looked as tired as he felt.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, glancing between Dean and Piers.

Dean shrugged. He didn't have the energy to try and put his feelings into words; didn't even know if he had the words to do them justice.

Instead, he watched her flick a needle before she took blood from the crook of Piers' arm. He didn't understand why they needed more blood, they'd taken so many of the tiny vials in the two days that Piers had been here.

He didn't ask though.

He'd tried asking questions for the first twenty something hours of being there, questions like, "Why isn't he awake yet?" and "Is he going to make a full recovery?" and the non-answers he'd received had done nothing but frustrate him, so Dean had given up asking.

He'd given up on a lot of things since the police had arrived at their home.

…

"You look like shit."

Dean blinked, looking up to see Seamus standing in the doorway. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Seamus waved his hand towards Piers. "You didn't tell any of us."

The obvious question was in Seamus' voice, and Dean had to look away, because if he didn't he was going to lose it. He couldn't afford to break down, Piers needed him.

"He's going to be fine," he replied instead. "There was no need to worry anyone."

"Hey," Seamus chided gently. "If you're worried, then I'm worried. You're my best friend, you tit."

Dean snorted but sobered quickly. "He's going to be okay, Shay. He _has_ to be. I need him."

Seamus nodded. "Yeah. Well, we need you too, and you look like you haven't eaten or slept in a week, so let's go."

"I'm not leaving him. What if he wakes up? He'll be scared if he's alone."

"He won't be alone, will he?" another voice said, and Dean looked around Seamus to see Dudley entering the room. "I'll stay here with him 'til you get back."

"I can't-"

"You can, and you are," Seamus replied, his tone hard. "You'll be no good to him, if you're not looking after yourself. Let's go."

The cafe food was bland and awful. Seamus made him finish everything on the plate, and then rubbed his back when he threw it back up half an hour later.

…

Dean woke suddenly, unsure as to what had caused his abrupt departure of sleep until he looked up to see Piers hand hovering over his head. He sat up, only to see the eyes he'd been longing for looking back at him.

"You're awake."

Piers blinked at him. "I… yeah. I don't… I'm sorry. _Who are you?_ "

…

Piers recognised Dudley. Dean sat off to the side, listening to the two friends talking. He knew it was selfish, but the happiness in Piers' voice was making him want to claw his ears off, because he hadn't been that happy when he was speaking to Dean.

He'd been wary and shy and not like the man that Dean loved. Five years. Five years together, and Piers was looking at him like he was a _stranger._

He stood up suddenly, barely managing to stutter out an apology before he left the room, unable to listen to the happy chatter any longer. He stumbled down corridor after corridor until he made it outside, breathing in the fresh air.

It was windy out, the autumn weather harsh against his skin, but it helped to settle him. He wanted… well, he wanted a lot of things, but right now, he needed Seamus.

Seamus would know what to do, would be able to knock some sense into him. Seamus would tell him everything would be okay, and Dean might actually be able to believe it.

He found a deserted spot close to the hospital and Apparated away.

…

"He doesn't remember you?"

Dean shook his head, accepting the cup of tea from George with a murmur of gratitude. Seamus was sitting across from him, and George pressed a kiss to his head as he passed by to leave the room, to give them some privacy.

The almost thoughtless gesture made Dean's heart clench uncomfortably because he'd pressed a kiss to Piers' head a few hours after he woke, and Piers had _flinched away._

"That's…" Seamus trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. "That's rough, mate."

"Yeah. I don't… I don't know what to… what if he never remembers? What if-"

"Dean," Seamus interrupted quietly, leaning forward to rest a hand on Dean's knee. "Breathe, mate, before you pass out. You're working yourself up."

"I wonder why!" Dean snapped, before he groaned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know it's not… I'm sorry."

"Even if Piers doesn't remember… he fell in love with you once, didn't he? He'll do it again. Piers… I don't care what he remembers. Emotion isn't logical anyway, and that man loves you. He loves you, and even if he doesn't remember you, even if he doesn't know it, he loves you."

Dean barely managed to put his tea down on the table before he was collapsing against his best friend, losing his composure completely, with tears running down his face. Seamus rocked him gently, holding Dean against his chest.

"It'll be okay, Dean. Just you wait and see, everything will be fine. Why don't you… take a night off from the hospital. Just… stay here and relax. Sleep. And hey, it's your birthday tomorrow, we can at least enjoy a nice breakfast before you do back, right?"

"I…" Dean wanted to refuse. He really did. He wanted to go straight back to the hospital and sit vigil to the man he loved. He couldn't find it in himself though. He didn't have the strength to sit and watch Piers look at him like he was a stranger. "Okay."

…

Piers was asleep when Dean returned to the hospital the following day. He took his seat anyway, letting his mind drift. He wasn't even sure if Piers _wanted_ him to be there, but he… unless Piers told him to go away, he'd stay. He couldn't…

The thought of sitting in their flat, with all of their things surrounding him, was too much to bear.

So caught in his thoughts, he didn't realise Piers had woken until his voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"Your favourite colour is navy blue."

Dean startled, his hand raising automatically to his heart as he turned to look at Piers.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump."

Dean chuckled. "You've got an addiction to making me jump," he commented without thinking, cringing when he realised what he'd said. "Sorry."

Piers shook his head. "No… no, that sounds like me. I… can imagine I do that a lot."

"You… you do. You… remembered my favourite colour."

Piers nodded. "Yes. I don't know why I remember the colour, I just… I don't remember you, but… I know that…"

Dean waited patiently as Piers struggled with his words. "I know I love you. I look at you, and I can feel that I love you. I… I didn't need Dudley to tell me that."

A tear slipped down Dean's cheek, and Piers reached out a hand clutching Dean's tightly when it was offered. "Don't… don't cry on your birthday. It's bad luck."

At Dean's wide eyes, Piers smiled slightly. "Okay, so Dudley might have told me that."

Dean didn't care. Piers had just given him the best birthday present he'd ever received without even trying.

…

"Do you have some kind of objection to my coming home?" Piers asked, raising his eyebrow at Dean.

"No, of course I don't. I just… don't know if its a good idea yet is all."

Dean had been arguing with the doctor for a little over half an hour over the subject of Piers returning home. While medically there wasn't much else to be done for Piers, they'd been warned that having so much stimulus, such as all the memories in their home, might be overwhelming, and Dean was worried.

"It'll be fine," Piers tried to assure him. "I'll be fine. We both will. Okay? I want to go home."

Dean nodded. "Okay. I. Okay."

He shifted the bags of Piers things into one hand and offered the other to Piers. "Let's go home then."

…

Piers had gone to bed. Dean sat in the living room, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he thought about following. The idea was… unsettling. Would Piers even want him there? Should he sleep on the sofa until Piers got his memories back?

Dean was ignoring the possibility that Piers _wouldn't_ get his memories back.

Unable to sit there any longer, he moved through the lower level of the house quietly to the kitchen, opening the back door. The rain was pelting down too hard for Dean to go out onto the porch, but he stayed at the door, the cold air helping to calm him.

 _He didn't know how to do any of this._

He wanted to help Piers, wanted to do something… anything… that would make things better, but there was nothing.

He'd even asked Seamus if there was anything magical that could help, but Seamus had looked at him with sad eyes and shook his head. And Piers… Piers didn't even _remember_ about Dean's magic.

It wasn't causing too many problems, because Dean had never been one to use magic much at home, but the idea that he could thoughtlessly cast a spell and freak Piers out was also weighing on him heavily.

A hand on his back startled him, and he turned to see Piers looking at him mischievously. "You were right. It is addictive, making you jump."

Dean couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped him.

"What are you doing standing out here?" Piers asked, pressing against him to see the rain over his shoulder. "The weather is _grim."_

"Fresh air," Dean replied quietly.

"Uh huh. I want hot chocolate. You want some?"

"Sure."

Piers left his side and Dean followed him inside, closed the door and took a seat at the breakfast bar. He quietly pointed to cupboards when asked where things were, his heart clenching every time he had too, because the kitchen had always been Piers' space, and him not knowing where things were was hitting Dean hard.

"Cinnamon?"

Dean pointed at another cupboard, chuckling when Piers sprinkled the cinnamon and sneezed, barely getting his arm up to cover his nose, the same way he did _every single time_ he made hot chocolate.

Piers rolled his eyes, but brought the two mugs over to the breakfast bar and took a seat facing Dean. He pushed one of the mugs to Dean and wrapped both of his hands around his own.

"I know that this is hard for you," he said after a minute. "I… I'm sorry."

Dean frowned and shook his head. "Please don't apologise for this. It's not your fault."

Piers sighed. "I… flashes are coming back. I think… I walked out after an argument? The police said I was hit by a drunk driver that didn't stop for a red light, but… if I hadn't walked out…"

"It wasn't your fault," Dean insisted. "We were both being assholes, but… the only person at fault is the drunk driver. It… wasn't your fault. And hey, I started the argument so…"

"It wasn't your fault, either," Piers said quietly.

Dean shrugged, because logically he knew that, but...

"I _am_ starting to remember things, Dean," Piers said. He took one hand off the mug and put it over Dean's. Dean flipped his own hand so he could lace their fingers together. "And hey, even if I don't remember everything… we can always make new memories, yeah?"

Dean nodded, unable to talk around the lump in his throat.

Piers stood up and rounded the table, coming to stand between Dean's legs. "Come to bed, Dean. I want a cuddle."

The familiarity of the words had Dean tugging Piers even closer, clutching at him in a tight hug.

"Dude… this is not bed. I said _bed_. Don't tell me that we used to regularly sleep in the kitchen because _I will not believe you_!"

Dean laughed as he was tugged impatiently towards the stairs.

* * *

 **Also Written for;**

Character Appreciation - 28. Hoping someone remembers.

Book Club - Tony - Needle / Addiction / Losing something.

Showtime - 6. "We need you too."

Emy's Emporium - 10. Someone with an unfortunate name

Slash September - DeanPiers

Leaf-pile - Brown; Laughing

Auction - Dean Thomas

Days of the Month - 23. Someone crying on their birthday.

Autumn - Windy

Colour - Cinnamon

Flower - Helenium - Sneeze

Air - Breathe

Dessert - Chocolate - Amnesia!AU

Ravenclaw - Navy Blue


End file.
